Please note that
Wychetts is a work of fiction and any similarity between characters
in this story and any persons living or undead is purely
coincidental.

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Wychetts (pronounced
“Witch-etts”) is an old timber framed cottage that contains an
amazing magic power…

Centuries ago the
Wise Ones governed the Realm of Magic, and built Wychetts as a
repository for their wisdom. But the forces of darkness plotted
against them, and seized the cottage in a bid to use its magic for
evil. Five hundred years passed since the last of the Wise Ones were
vanquished by the Shadow Clan, then Bryony and her new stepbrother
Edwin arrived to unwittingly awaken the ancient power and become the
new Guardians of Wychetts.

At first the
children wanted to use the magic of the Wise Ones to rid themselves
of each other and go back to their old lives; but when the Shadow
Clan returned to claim Wychetts’ power, Bryony and Edwin had to
work together to save the cottage and the whole world from
destruction (not to mention a worldwide shortage of ice-cream).

Since that fateful
day the young Guardians have experienced a series of incredible
adventures, guided by Inglenook, Keeper of the Ancient Wisdom. A
wooden face carved into the living room fireplace, Inglenook controls
the flow of Wychetts’ power and can communicate with the children
through a magic key when they are away from the cottage.

Bryony and Edwin
also rely on the quick-witted mouse Stubby to make it through their
magical adventures.

And as they discover
more about their powers, the children face their own different
challenges…

Eager to use
Wychetts’ magic for good, Edwin learns that brandishing the power
of the Wise Ones carries huge responsibilities. At times he has
doubted his own strength, but during his quest to retrieve the stolen
Thunderstone Edwin discovered he could form a psychic link with
Inglenook, something that few Guardians have ever been capable of.

Meanwhile, after an
initial period of doubt, Bryony has become more self-assured in the
use of magic. But she is haunted by foreboding about her absent
mother: a scribbled note discovered in her old stuffed toy; an
overheard whisper from plotting enemies; a vision of her own darkest
fears conjured by an ancient field demon; the same mysterious words
that even Inglenook cannot explain…

Despite her secret
worries, Bryony has grown closer to Edwin in the weeks after their
adventure with the Thunderstone. For his part, Edwin has found he
enjoys having a stepsister after all.

But it doesn’t
take much to shatter their fragile friendship…

Prologue

“There are many
forms of magic, of varying degrees of power: white magic, black
magic, magic of the air, of ice and of fire, of music and song, of
love and hatred, joy and anger. But the most potent by far is the
magic of dreams.”

The class remained
silent as their tutor spoke; an imposingly tall man clad in a long
white gown, with a shock of wiry grey hair, with a large nose like a
hawk’s beak projecting from his gaunt, angular face.

“Dreams have been
a subject of study throughout recorded history.” The tutor stood at
the front of the classroom, his silver eyes holding each student’s
gaze for a flickering heartbeat. “Early civilisations believed that
dreams were messages from divine beings, or that they predicted
future events. Witchdoctors used sleep inducing herbs to enter the
realm of dreams to learn more of their mystic properties; but often
with the gravest of consequences, for they did not understand what
dreams are made of. So here’s a question: what are dreams?”

A forest of arms
shot into the air, the pupils vying eagerly for the honour of
answering the tutor’s question. All except one, a girl who sat
alone at the back of the classroom.

“Dreams are
nothing.” A boy answered keenly in response to a nod from the
tutor. “Just a series of random thoughts and memories.”

“Wrong,” said
the tutor, striding down the aisle between the rows of wooden desks.
“Dreams are much more than that. Dreams are formed from our hopes
and desires, and also by our darkest fears, our regrets and our
guilt. This unstable mix of positive and negative power makes them a
volatile source of magic.”

The tutor reached
the back of the classroom, stopping next to the girl who had not
raised her hand. She sat hunched over her desk, unaware of the
tutor’s attention.

Leaning forwards,
the tutor saw the girl was drawing a picture in her exercise book: a
detailed study of some fantastical, fearsome creature.

“And the most
dangerous dreams are daydreams.” The tutor took the girl’s pencil
and eased it from her hand. The girl froze, keeping her head down to
avoid his harsh silver gaze. “They can distract us from our
studies, lead us from the path of learning. The tutor turned and
retraced his steps to the front of the classroom. “Dreams can make
prisoners of us. Magic from the dream realm can seep into our world,
drawn by our hopes, our desires and expectations.”

The girl lifted her
head and stared at his back, her right hand clenching into a fist.

“So be careful
with your dreams.” The tutor wheeled round to face his class,
raising the girl’s confiscated pencil as though to underline his
point. “Dreams can be pleasant, yes. But they are made of dark
things too. Things we can’t control. Things we might want to
forget, that we locked away in a box a long time ago. And the magic
power of dreams can turn them into reality. And not always the
reality you may have hoped for. When practising magic it is therefore
important…”

The tutor’s voice
trailed off when he saw a floating dark blob materialising at the end
of the classroom. He instinctively looked at the girl whose pencil he
had taken, and saw her lips twisting into a smile. The pupils all
looked round, their eyes widening when they glimpsed a shape forming
in the heart of the growing dark blob.

And then there were
screams, shrill cries of panic as something black and monstrous came
flying from the darkness, its red eyes glowing, fanged jaw gnashing
as it lunged at the tutor…

All around him is
gloom, cold and impenetrable. He cannot remember the light, or how
the warmth of the sun felt on his skin.

He has been in the
darkness so long, there are many things he cannot remember: what it
is to laugh, to cry, to taste fresh air and hear joyous birdsong on a
summer’s morning.

And yet a sound
reaches him, a voice calling from far away, an echoing cry in the
emptiness.

It could be from
another world, yet he can hear it. He feels it too, resonating inside
him like the tolling of a bell.

He hears, he feels,
but he cannot respond. He has no voice, no means by which to answer
the caller.

So all he can do is
wait. Wait in the gloom as the cry grows louder.

Until one day the
door opens.

The day of his
release…

1 Hurry
Up, Dad!

“Daaaaaad!”
Bryony threw her head back and shouted. “The taxi’s here!”

“Coming,” came
her father’s muffled voice from upstairs.

“I wish he’d get
a move on.” Bryony rolled her eyes at Edwin, who stood next to her
in the hallway by the opened front door. “We’ll miss the
flight.”

“You’ve got
loads of time.” Edwin tried his best, but his calming words had
little effect on his stepsister. Bryony checked her wristwatch,
puffed her cheeks, and then yelled again.

“Daaaaaad! Hurry
uuuuuuup!”

Edwin winced as her
shrill cry seared his eardrums. He had never known Bryony in such a
state, but he could understand why.

It was a big day for
her. A day she’d been dreaming about for years.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaad!”
Bryony stamped her right foot on the floor. “Get a move on!”

At last Bill Platt
came galloping down the stairs, looking even more flustered than his
daughter.

Bill drew away from
Jane, then gave Edwin a serious look. “Lad, you’re going to have
to be man of the house while I’m away. Think you can handle my
responsibilities?”

Edwin frowned as he
tried to think of any. “You mean hogging the sofa, never cleaning
the bath after use, and leaving dirty socks in random places?”

Bill slapped a hand
on Edwin’s shoulder. “I know I can count on you.”

There was another
impatient scream from Bryony. Bill nodded goodbye before answering
his daughter’s strained summons.

“Coming!”

Edwin watched Bill
sprint through the garden gate and join Bryony in the back of the
taxi waiting in the lane.

“Bye!” Jane
waved from the cottage door. “We’ll miss you!”

Edwin waved too. For
a moment he thought Bryony was waving back at him, but then realised
her furtive gestures were intended for the taxi driver. He couldn’t
see anyone through the tinted front windows of the big black car, but
there must have been someone at the wheel because seconds later the
taxi moved off.

“Bye.” Edwin
lowered his hand as the taxi sped off down the lane. “And happy
birthday, Bryony.”

2 I’d
Sooner Talk to a Brick Wall

The dining table was
laid ready, plates stacked with a choice selection of morsels. There
were sandwiches, sausage rolls, cold meats and salad, not to mention
an array of accompanying dips and sauces. There were sweets, too: jam
tarts, chocolate muffins, and pastries filled with cream. And of
course there was the cake, a circular slab of succulent sponge
decorated with intricate swirls of pink and white icing, an edible
work of art that would have graced any birthday party. Edwin had made
everything himself, with a little help from Mum here and there, and
hadn’t used any magic at all (except to remove some dollops of raw
pastry from the kitchen ceiling, and clean up the washing machine
after he’d mistaken it for the oven).

Edwin stood at the
dining room door, his despondent gaze following the string of gaudy
homemade bunting hanging from the ceiling. Bill had helped him put
that up, along with the painted sign on the wall that read ‘Happy
Birthday Bryony’. The sign was a bit wonky, but the overall effect
was quite pleasing.

It had taken all
week to prepare, the food, bunting and banner, and was meant to have
been a birthday surprise for Bryony. But the biggest surprise had
been waiting for her on the doormat that morning. And now, just a few
hours later, she had gone.

There was a time,
not so long ago, when Edwin would have been glad to see the back of
her. He’d never wanted a stepsister, and had made no bones about
letting the rest of the world know it. But now she’d gone, he
didn’t feel glad at all. It felt like something was missing: a part
of his life, maybe. A part of him.

Edwin shook his
head, trying to dislodge such dappy thoughts. He still found Bryony
annoying. She was sulky, aloof, and quick to put him down at every
opportunity. But in the last few weeks he’d seen another side to
her...

It had all started
that night after their adventure with the Thunderstone, when Bryony
had finally opened up to him about how she’d felt when her mother
walked out on her. It seemed like a corner had been turned, and ever
since then things had been much better between them. For the first
time in his life Edwin had found that he didn’t mind having a
sister. In fact, he’d quite enjoyed it. And things wouldn’t be
the same without her.

It was only supposed
to be for five days, but Edwin had a feeling he might never see his
stepsister again.

Still, it was what
she wanted. What she’d always wanted, from the moment they’d
moved into the cottage together. She’d made no secret of the fact,
and even after all their magical adventures Edwin knew she didn’t
really care about Wychetts. Or care about him, for that matter. The
only thing she cared about was her precious mum, and that had never
been more obvious than this morning. She hadn’t even glanced at her
present (on which Edwin had spent every last penny of his measly
savings), and he suspected she’d forgotten about it already.

The more he thought
about it, Edwin wondered why he’d bothered going to so much effort
preparing for her stupid birthday party. And on the bright side, with
no Bryony around it meant he had the whole weekend free to do
whatever he liked.

Perhaps he could go
out with Mum. It had been ages since they’d done anything together.
In the old days, before Bryony and Bill had shown up, Edwin and his
mother would always go out on a Saturday. Whether it had been for a
walk in the park or a visit to the local museum, they’d always done
stuff. Now they could do stuff again, just the two of them.

Edwin left the
dining room and closed the door behind him. He found his mother in
the kitchen at the table.

“So what are we
going to do?” he asked, smiling expectantly.

Jane didn’t seem
to hear the question. She was sitting as still as a statue, head
cradled in her hands, face shrouded by locks of wavy auburn hair.

“Mum?” Edwin
clicked his fingers close to Jane’s right ear. “Did you hear me?”

“What?” Jane’s
head snapped up, her pale blue eyes blinking at Edwin. “Sorry dear,
I didn’t see you there. I was just having a little nap.”

Edwin was confused.
“At the kitchen table?”

“I don’t know
what came over me.” Jane yawned again, wiping a hand across her
face. “I suddenly came over all sleepy. Maybe it’s the weather.”

It was a muggy sort
of day, and the air inside the cottage did seem a bit stifling. Edwin
thought he’d better open a window, but was stopped in his tracks by
a weird smell.

It was intoxicating,
a sickly sweet scent that clogged his nose and throat. He looked
round and saw the culprit, a large bunch of flowers in the sink.

“Where did those
come from?” Edwin pointed at the flowers, pinching his nose as he
spoke.

“Huh?” Jane had
almost dozed off again. “Oh, they arrived this morning with the
letter.”

Edwin frowned. “I
didn’t see any flowers.”

“They were just
seeds at the time.” Jane gestured to an empty sachet on the table.
“I added them to water like the instructions said, and they’ve
grown that big in less than an hour. Aren’t they beautiful?”

Still pinching his
nose to keep out the smell, Edwin walked to the sink and examined the
flowers. He wasn’t an expert botanist, but reckoned he could
identify most native plant species. And these were definitely not
native; with their thick hairy stems, large pink petals and bulbous
seedpods, they looked more like something from another planet.

“Flowers don’t
normally grow that quick,” he pondered. “Do you know what species
they are?”

“I’ve never seen
their like before.” Jane remained seated, gazing fondly at the
flowers. “They certainly have a distinctive scent.”

“They stink.”
Edwin leaned past the flowers to open the window, but the latch was
jammed.

“I should get
round to putting them in a vase,” said Jane.

“The dustbin would
be better,” grumbled Edwin, abandoning his attempt to open the
window.

“So now you’ve
had a rest, I was wondering if you’d like to do something fun with
me.”

Stubby peered at
Edwin through his long twitching whiskers. “I’m not sure what you
mean.”

“Something fun.
You know. Enjoyable.”

“I’m familiar
with the concept of entertaining recreational activities,” sniffed
Stubby. “It’s the bit about you being involved that I’m
struggling to get my head round. In my experience the two things
seldom go together.”

Edwin should have
been used to Stubby’s insults by now, but that one hurt.

“I won’t take up
much of your time,” he promised. “We could just talk, if you
like.”

Stubby yawned. “I’d
sooner talk to a brick wall. After it had collapsed on me under an
advancing steamroller. Now please return me to my office, I have some
very urgent mouse matters to attend to.”

Edwin slipped Stubby
back into his pocket. Seconds later, a tiny “DO NOT DISTURB” sign
poked out of the top.

Edwin sighed. So
Stubby didn’t want anything to do with him either.

But that didn’t
mean he was all out of options. Being a Guardian of Wychetts meant he
could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, as long as he obeyed
the magic rules.

So if Mum and Stubby
didn’t want to have fun with him, he’d have fun all by himself.
All it needed was for him to make a wish, and he could have the most
fun filled day of his entire life.

So Edwin wished.

Oddly, nothing
happened.

He tried wishing
again, but still nothing happened.

He modified his wish
slightly, just in case there was a limit on the amount of fun you
could wish for in one go.

But still nothing
happened.

There was no magic!

Edwin wondered if
he’d end up talking to a brick wall after all. In any case, he’d
need to start with the fireplace.

He ran into the
lounge, looking expectantly at the bestial face carved in the wooden
beam above the fireplace. Inglenook’s eyes were closed, and Edwin
assumed the Keeper of the Ancient Wisdom was deep in thought on some
important magical matter.

“Ahem.” Edwin
coughed. Even now, after so much time as a Guardian, he still wasn’t
sure how to request Inglenook’s attention.

“Yeah, you know…”
Edwin couldn’t understand why he had to explain himself so much
that morning. “Entertaining recreational activities.”

“Hmm…”
Inglenook made a disapproving sort of noise. “I’m afraid I don’t
have enough energy to grant any magic wishes. I am feeling rather
tired at the moment. The past few weeks have been most strenuous.”

“Tell me about
it,” said Edwin. “But I’m not asking for much. Just a little
bit of magic so I can have some fun.”

“I would be most
happy to oblige…” Inglenook paused to yawn. The whole cottage
trembled, and Edwin feared the ceiling might collapse. “But perhaps
you would be kind enough to ask me later, after I have rested a
little more.”

“OK,” agreed
Edwin. “How much later?”

Inglenook had closed
his eyes, so Edwin resorted to tapping him on the nose again.

“I said how much
later?”

Inglenook’s eyes
snapped open. “Oh, just a couple of days.”

“A couple of
days?”

“Three or four.”

“Four?”

“Perhaps five.”

“Five days?”
Edwin was horrified. “But Bryony will be back by then. Surely you
can do some magic now?”

“Too tired.”
Inglenook yawned again. “Haven’t felt this sleepy for a long
time.”

“It’s definitely
the weather. I’ll let some air in.”

He tried the lounge
window, but found the latch was stuck. Just like in the kitchen.

“Inglenook.”
Edwin returned to the fireplace. “Why are all the windows jammed?”

“Wychetts is an
old timber framed building, and the woodwork is prone to warping.”
Inglenook struggled to keep his eyes open. “Now if you will excuse
me, I just… need… a little… nap.”

Inglenook’s face
turned back to wood, and the cottage fell silent.

Edwin’s shoulders
slumped with despair. Even the fireplace didn’t want to talk to
him. All options exhausted, he was tempted to strike up a
conversation with the floor, but wasn’t sure if he could handle any
further rejection.

Suddenly it felt
like he was the only person in the entire world. Whilst Edwin
contemplated life as the sole survivor of the human race, and in
particular how long his stockpile of homemade party food might last,
he heard strange noises from somewhere above him…

A thud followed by
frantic scraping.

Edwin lifted his
head to inspect the wonky-beamed ceiling. The scraping seemed to be
moving in the direction of the chimneybreast. Intrigued, he bent down
and peered up the chimney.

He recoiled when
something landed on his face. To his relief, it was nothing more than
a clump of sooty cobwebs.

Edwin laughed,
wiping the debris from his cheek. It was probably just some birds
trying to build a nest. Nothing to worry about.

He was about to turn
away from the fireplace when a loud booming noise echoed through the
house. A pile of rubble crashed down the chimney, sending an eruption
of soot and goodness knows what else spewing from the hearth. Edwin
staggered back, coughing and gasping as the room filled with
billowing clouds of dust.

Then there was
silence again.

Edwin stood there,
glimpsing movement in the swirling dust clouds.

At first he thought
it was a trick of the light. But then a voice pierced the sooty
haze...

“Hello Edwin.”

It was a voice he
knew from somewhere, but the air was still too dusty for him to
identify the figure that came clambering out of the fireplace.

“Don’t you
remember me?” asked the voice. “Oh Edwin, I am disappointed. I
thought we were friends.”

Suddenly the dust
cleared, and Edwin saw a girl standing in front of him.

She was about his
own age, and of similar height. She wore old-fashioned thick-rimmed
glasses, and a bright purple dress. And her hair was a lurid shade of
green.

“You tricked me,”
countered Edwin. “You only wanted to know me so you could get hold
of the Tome Terriblis.”

“I would never
have left you to rot. And I only wanted the Tome to get my family
back.” Maddy lifted a satchel she’d been holding behind her back.
“They’re in here, thanks for asking.”

Edwin bit his lip.
He’d forgotten about the Maddergrub family, who had all been turned
into paintings many hundreds of years ago. It was Maddy herself,
using the power of the Tome Terriblis, who had committed this awful
deed; but she had never meant it to be permanent, and when a renegade
warlock attacked Maddergrub Manor to claim the magic Tome, Maddy had
been forced to abandon her family and flee to the future.

“Sorry.” Edwin
muttered an apology. “But it would be better if you left right
now.”

“Oh come on,”
said Maddy. “Don’t pretend you’re not pleased to see me.”

Edwin was caught off
guard. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, there was part of him
that was pleased to see Maddy again. Even after everything that
happened on their previous encounter.

“And let’s face
it,” continued Maddy, “it’s not like you’ve got loads of
friends to hang out with.”

“I’ve got
Stubby,” countered Edwin.

Maddy pointed to the
little sign protruding from Edwin’s shirt pocket. “Doesn’t look
like he’s got much time for you right now.”

“Please go.”
Edwin pointed to the door. “I need to clear this mess up before my
mum finds out.”

Maddy stepped to one
side. Behind her the hearth was spotless; not a cobweb, misplaced
brick, or speck of soot in sight.

Edwin blinked, then
gave Maddy a suspicious look. “How did you…?”

“How do you
think?” giggled Maddy. “Magic, of course.”

Edwin’s lips
formed a perfect circle. “You can do magic like that?”

“It wasn’t just
me. I had some help from wooden chops over there.” Maddy nodded at
Inglenook.

“Wychetts’
magic?” Edwin frowned. “But you’re not a Guardian.”

“I’m a
Maddergrub. A descendant of the Wise Ones. And I trained to be a
Guardian of Wychetts.”

“But you flunked
your tests and stole the Tome Terriblis.” Edwin waved an
admonishing finger at Maddy. “So you don’t deserve to be a
Guardian.”

Maddy’s lips
tightened. “I only borrowed it. I was going to give it back. I
didn’t know that…”

“Inglenook!”
Edwin shouted at the fireplace. “Inglenook!”

“What are you
doing?” said Maddy.

“If I can’t make
you leave, maybe someone else can.” Edwin walked up to the hearth
and yelled at the carved wooden face. “Inglenook, wake up!”

“Don’t disturb
him,” hissed Maddy. “He can be terribly crotchety if you disrupt
his naps.”

“But what if
there’s an emergency? Wychetts will be safer with two Guardians at
home.”

“The only
emergency around here is you. You’re a walking emergency. Now…”

Then Edwin caught a
smell, a syrupy sweet sickly scent.

“Go,” he urged,
trying not to inhale too deeply. “There’s no emergency.”

“Then what’s
that?” Maddy was also pointing at the door.

Edwin looked, and
saw a bright pink mist seeping into the room from under the door.

“Inglenook?” He
looked questioningly at the fireplace, but the Keeper of the Ancient
Wisdom still had his eyes shut.

The pink mist spread
out in curling tendrils, reminding Edwin of a plant. And as that
sickly sweet smell grew ever stronger, he realised there might be a
connection.

“The flowers!”
Hand clasped over his nose and mouth, Edwin hurried out of the lounge
and down the hallway. The pink mist thickened, and he had to feel his
way along the walls until he reached the kitchen.

“Mum? Are you
there?” He couldn’t see through the dense pink veil, and there
was a clatter as he knocked over a kitchen chair. “Mum! Where are
you?”

“It’s not
dinner,” gasped Edwin, now finding it hard to breathe. “It’s…”

“Dark magic.”
Maddy grabbed Edwin’s arm. “We need to get out of the cottage.”

“No,” barked
Edwin. “My mum’s in here somewhere.”

“It’s too late
for her.” Maddy pulled Edwin back to the door. “She’s already
been affected by the spell. The only way you can save her is to save
yourself. Come on, we need air!”

Edwin tried to
protest, but the pink mist seeped into his mouth, burning the back of
his throat. Maddy hauled him out of the kitchen, the children
clinging together as they lurched back down the foggy hallway.

Edwin tripped, and
there was a scream from Maddy when his arm slipped from her grasp. He
tried reaching out to her, but his flailing fingers felt something
wooden in front of him.

The front door!

Eyes streaming,
Edwin fumbled until he located the metal latch, but he couldn’t
prise the door open.

Just like the
windows, it was jammed.

He looked round for
Maddy, but the pink mist closed around him like a suffocating
blanket…

4 In
a Roundabout Way

“Excuse me.”
Bryony leaned forwards and rapped her knuckles on the perspex screen
between the driver and passengers. “Can’t this thing go any
faster?”

The taxi driver
didn’t reply. From where she was seated Bryony couldn’t see his
face, or even his reflection in the rear view mirror. She knocked
again on the screen, but Bill took her hand and eased her back into
her seat.

“Calm down, love.
We’re nearly there.”

“We’re miles
from the airport,” argued Bryony. From by the passing rural scenery
it looked as though they were miles away from anywhere. “We should
be on the motorway by now.” She reached up again, but this time
Bill grabbed her hand before her knuckles made contact with perspex.

“Please sit still,
love.”

“But we’ll miss
the flight.”

“We’ve got
plenty of time. Now try and relax. I know, how about a game of ‘I
Spy’.”

“That’s a word,
not a letter. I’ve explained the rules of ‘I Spy’ to you
before, and…” Bill scowled at Bryony. “Hey, did you just call
me an idiot?”

“I’m not playing
silly games.” Bryony slumped back in her seat. “I just want to
see Mum.”

“You will.” Bill
insisted. “Very soon.”

But ‘very soon’
wasn’t anywhere near quick enough for Bryony. They’d been
travelling for a good half hour, surely they should have reached the
main road by now?

She mentioned this
again to Bill, but he dismissed her concerns with his usual
patronising smile. So she sat in silence, trying to think of positive
things: of flying to America, of being in a different country, of
seeing her real mum again.

Bryony felt her
stomach knot, but wasn’t sure if it was from excitement. She would
never admit it to anyone, not even Dad, but her anticipation was
chilled by a haunting sense of dread.

It had been a long
time, nearly four years since Bryony had seen her mother. What if Mum
had changed since then? What if she wasn’t the person Bryony
remembered? Now Mum had another daughter, Bryony realised things
could never be like they were before.

But there was an
even greater fear, a fear that had festered inside her for months,
growing larger and darker until its menacing shadow swamped all her
thoughts…

Bryony rummaged in
her holdall and drew out the small parcel that Edwin had given her
before she’d left home. It wasn’t what she’d been looking for,
so she dropped it back into the holdall and rummaged around a bit
more until she found the letter.

It was just a piece
of paper, but its arrival that morning had turned Bryony’s whole
world upside down.

Bryony drew the
crumpled piece of paper out of the holdall. She read the letter so
many times that she already knew its contents off by heart. But she
read it again anyhow.

“My dearest
Bryony,

Great news. I have
some time off work and am free to meet up with you. Only problem is
you’ll have to come to America. I enclose two flight tickets, one
for you and Dad. I’ll meet you at the airport as soon as you
arrive. I can’t wait, it’s been so long!

Love you,

Your ever loving
Mother. XXX”

Bryony’s eyebrows
knotted. After the blur of excitement that morning, she felt a sudden
pang of doubt. There was something about the letter. Something that
didn’t feel right…

Maybe it was because
the letter was typed, rather than handwritten? Maybe because it
wasn’t signed? Or maybe…

Or maybe she was
just being dumb. What had got into her, trying to pick holes in a
letter from Mum after all this time? Did it matter if it was typed?
Did it matter if there was no signature? Did it even matter that
there had been no stamp or postmark on the envelope?

But the letter
itself didn’t really matter. Bryony had a long list of questions to
ask Mum about more important things.

Like the Moon of
Magister.

Those words had kept
cropping up ever since Bryony had discovered the power of Wychetts.
She had heard them that first night in the garden, whispered by Katya
Pauncefoot as the Shadow Clan hatched their scheme to seize the
cottage. And again at Barrenbrake Farm, and then on the Darkwing
airship in the midst of their fight to retrieve the Thunderstone. And
of course, there had been the message stowed inside Mr Cuddles…

Those five words now
haunted Bryony, whispering at the back of her mind over and over.
What could they mean? Was this Magister a person? And why wouldn’t
Inglenook, the Keeper of the Ancient Wisdom, even attempt to help her
unravel the mystery?

Beware the Moon of
Magister.

Bryony shuddered,
her skin puckering as an icy chill ran down her spine. She told
herself they were just words. In any case she’d soon be with Mum,
who’d explain everything and make her feel safe again. Safe again,
just like the old days in Mossy Glade Close.

She inserted the
letter back into her holdall, then looked out of the window again.
They were still in the countryside, miles away from anywhere. She
glanced at her watch, noting that nearly ten minutes had passed since
her last time check. Surely they should be on the motorway by now?

Dad had his eyes
closed, deep in thought. Bryony sat up, and was about to request the
driver’s attention when she saw a roundabout up ahead. At last!
Hopefully there would be a sign showing how far they were from the
airport.

The taxi headed
around the roundabout. Bryony pressed her face eagerly against the
window, but couldn’t see any signs for the airport. In fact, she
couldn’t see any signs at all.

The taxi went right
around the roundabout. Bryony wondered if the driver was going to
head back where they’d just come from, but then she saw the road
they had just come from wasn’t there anymore.

In fact, she
couldn’t see any roads coming off the roundabout.

Bryony blinked,
wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Then she pinched
herself in case she had fallen asleep and was dreaming. The she
pinched her father, because she realised that she wasn’t seeing
things and she wasn’t dreaming.

“Ow!” Bill’s
eyes snapped open. “What is it? Are we there?”

“Look.” Bryony
tapped on the window. “The roundabout.”

“It’s a
roundabout.” Bill nodded. “Well done. But I still don’t think
you’ve quite got the hang of ‘I Spy’.”

“Look closer,”
urged Bryony. “Where have all the roads gone? There’s no way out
of it.”

Bill peered out of
the window. “But that can’t be. How did we get on the roundabout
in the first place?”

The taxi continued
round the roundabout, gathering speed as it went. Bryony raised her
hand to knock on the screen, but she was thrown sideways onto her
father when the taxi tilted sharply.

She looked up,
hoping to catch the driver’s eye in the rear view mirror; but the
reflection she saw was just an empty seat.

And that’s when
she realised: there was no driver!

And yet somehow the
taxi continued circling the roundabout. The engine roared as it hit
top speed, and the view through the windows became a blur of streaky
colours.

Bryony closed her
eyes as her head swam. She heard her father calling out to her, but
his cries faded before she drowned in a whirlpool of giddiness…

5 Don’t
You Trust Me?

“Wake up, sleepy
head.”

Edwin felt something
nudging his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw a foot. The foot was
connected to a leg, and the leg was connected to a girl with green
hair wearing a pair of old-fashioned thick-rimmed glasses.

Edwin tried to
speak, but could only manage a strangled yawn.

“What beautiful
tonsils you have.” Maddy knelt on the grass next to Edwin. “You’ll
be a little dozy for a minute or two. Then you’ll be very dozy for
an awful lot longer, but that’s just how you were before.”

Edwin sat up,
realising he was lying in the garden outside the cottage.

“What…” He
yawned again, but remembered to cover his mouth with a hand this
time. “What happened?”

“But the flowers
are dead.” Edwin noticed the flowers in the sink had wilted, the
once pink petals now shrivelled and blackened.

“Maybe.” Maddy
let go of Edwin’s arm. “But their spores remain toxic for up to
three weeks.”

“Where’s my mum?
I can’t see…” Then Edwin noticed a shape slumped on the table.
A vaguely human shape, smothered in pink cobwebs. He couldn’t see a
face, but there were a few coils of auburn hair visible through the
blanket of cobwebs.

“Mum!” A
distraught Edwin hurried to the table. “Are you OK? Can you hear
me?”

“She’s dreaming.
That’s another side effect of Hypnoflax poisoning. Vivid dreams
that seem almost real.”

“Then we need to
wake her up,” said Edwin.

“We can’t.”
Maddy grabbed Edwin’s arm again when he moved to touch Jane’s
shoulder. “Nothing can counter the effect of Hypnoflaxflax spores.”

Edwin frowned at
Maddy. “Not even Wychetts’ magic?”

Maddy bit her bottom
lip. “Your mother isn’t the only one affected.”

Edwin twisted his
arm from Maddy’s grip and ran from the kitchen. As he galloped back
down the hallway he now noticed that the walls and floor were
smothered in the same pink cobwebs. The lounge was in an even worse
state…

The cobwebs were
thickest around the fireplace, clinging to Inglenook’s carved
wooden features, smothering his mouth and nostrils, drawing a pink
veil across his eyes.

“Inglenook!”
Edwin ran up to the hearth, yelling at the top of his voice.
“INGLENOOK!”

“I can contact him
by psychic link.” Edwin closed his eyes and concentrated.
“Inglenook, can you hear me?”

“Nothing can wake
him up,” said Maddy. “Not even you.”

Edwin concentrated
for a few more seconds, his freckled face contorted with effort.

Then he heard a
sound. A sound that came from nowhere and everywhere at once, that
made the floor and the walls tremble. A deep, rhythmic rasping noise
that reminded him of…

Snoring. It was
Inglenook snoring.

And then he realised
Maddy was right. He couldn’t wake Inglenook.

Edwin opened his
eyes, blinking back a tear as he lowered his gaze to floor. Then he
saw the little ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ sign. His spirits lifting, Edwin
put a hand to his shirt pocket.

Stubby will know
what to do, he thought. But Edwin’s eyes started watering again
when he found his shirt pocket was empty.

“I don’t know
what happened to your mouse,” confessed Maddy. “Guess he must
have been affected by the Hypnoflax like everyone else. Probably fell
out of your pocket when I was dragging you out of the cottage.”

“He was sleepy all
morning.” Edwin recalled how everyone in the cottage had been
drowsy. “Mum, Inglenook too. And the windows were jammed so I
couldn’t let any air in.”

“All part of the
Hypnoflax spell.” Maddy’s green freckled forehead puckered
thoughtfully. “But how did the flowers get here in the first
place?”

“The seeds arrived
in the post this morning.” Edwin’s gaze followed Maddy as she
started pacing around the lounge. “With the letter from Bryony’s
mother in America. She said they were a present.”

Maddy halted, then
wheeled round to face Edwin.

“That letter
didn’t come from Bryony’s mother.”

“Huh?” Edwin
wondered how Maddy could be so sure about that. “Then who sent it?”

Maddy waved away the
suggestion. “The Shadow Clan don’t do flowers, not even poisonous
ones. No, this seems more like…”

Edwin wondered why
Maddy had stopped mid sentence. She stared into space, her lips
apart, eyebrows arched in apparent anguish. For a moment he feared
she had fallen asleep like his mother, but then Maddy spoke again.
Although what she said didn’t make much sense.

“The
Vampiropteryx.”

“Vampi…” Edwin
gave up trying to repeat the word. “What are they?”

“You don’t
know?” Maddy fixed Edwin with an incredulous look. “Only the most
evil creatures ever, from another dimension. Sometimes they leave
their domain of darkness and come into ours to feed. Except the
Vampiropteryx don’t feed on blood, but magic. The magic of our
world draws them like bees to nectar. Except they’re more bat-like.
And spit deadly green fire.”

“Worse, I’m
afraid. They’re everyone’s most terrible nightmare come true, all
at once, with wings on. It was the Vampiropteryx who sent you the
Hypnoflax seeds, along with the letter luring Bryony and her father
away from Wychetts.”

“Bryony.” Edwin
gasped. “Then we’ve got to warn her, send her a message in
America.” Then he gasped again. “But if the letter was a fake…
she probably isn’t on her way to America?”

“Your stepsister
is already a prisoner of the Vampiropteryx. Her father too.” Maddy
nodded slowly. “It was the perfect plan. The easiest way of
splitting up the Guardians and leaving Wychetts open to their attack.
Except for one thing.”

“Which is?”
Edwin wondered why Maddy was smiling.

“Me!” Maddy
patted her chest. “I’m a descendant of the Wise Ones like you.
I’m a Guardian.”

“Neither have
you,” argued Maddy. “But you can still use Wychetts’ magic.”

“But Inglenook is
asleep. So even two Guardians won’t be enough to stop the Vampi…”
Again Edwin gave up trying to say it. “… those magic eating
monsters.”

Maddy tutted like an
impatient schoolteacher. “We can still use Wychetts’ power
without old wooden chops. Even more of it, seeing as he can’t
ration our use of magic like he normally does.”

Edwin didn’t like
the idea of that. “But Inglenook is the Keeper of the Ancient
Wisdom. It wouldn’t be right to use Wychetts’ power without his
say so.”

“But if we don’t
do something to help, Inglenook might not be able to say anything
ever again. Or your mother, for that matter.”

Edwin let Maddy’s
words sink in. If what she said was true, Wychetts was in terrible
danger. And if these Vampi… bat monsters stole Wychetts’ magic,
there was no way of waking up Mum, let alone finding Bill and Bryony.

“Let’s do it.”
Edwin decided he had no choice. “We’ll use Wychetts’ power to
wake up Inglenook and my mum.”

“It’s not as
simple as that,” warned Maddy. “There’s no antidote to
Hypnoflax poisoning. At least not any more.”

“But if there’s
no antidote, then how can we…”

Maddy skipped
between Edwin and the fireplace. “Do you trust me, Edwin?”

“Of course it
isn’t.” Maddy grinned. “There’s a million things that could
go wrong. We could materialise at the bottom of a swamp, or get
flattened by a dinosaur, or get captured by a tribe of primitive
cannibalistic cave people. I really hate it when that happens.”

Edwin’s doubts
were growing by the second. “And shouldn’t we have travel
insurance?”

“Oh sure. Plus
injections against cholera, bubonic plague and chilblains. And
sunscreen, sensible shoes, and a small flashlight to convince those
primitive cannibalistic cave people we’re gods and shouldn’t be a
side dish in their Sunday mammoth roast. Plus a book of word puzzles
for the duller moments. But we don’t have time for all that. Now
close your eyes. Magic time travel can be a bit scary first time.”

Edwin stared at
Maddy, seeing his reflection in the lenses of her thick-rimmed
glasses.

“Close your eyes,”
she whispered. “And trust me.”

Edwin didn’t
totally trust Maddy, but reckoned he had no choice but to go along
with her plan. Even if it was only a plan of a plan.

So he closed his
eyes.

And trusted her.

6 Meet
the Maddergrubs

Maddy tightened her
grip on Edwin’s hand. He felt he could never let go, as though
fused to her. Seconds passed, but nothing seemed to happen. Then he
heard a whoosh of air, and it felt like his feet had left the ground.

He opened his eyes,
and saw they were tumbling through a tunnel of swirling bright
colours. He quickly closed his eyes again, fighting the urge to throw
up. It was a fight he came desperately close to losing, but just as
the bile rose threateningly in his throat, Edwin felt solid ground
beneath his feet again.

The whooshing noise
faded, replaced by the calming chirp of birdsong. He felt a gentle
warm breeze on his face, and the bitter taste of sick receded.

“Are we there?”
he asked, eyes still screwed shut.

“We’re there,”
confirmed Maddy.

“That wasn’t too
bad.” Edwin tried to sound as though he had enjoyed the journey.

“Quite a smooth
ride,” agreed Maddy. “Luckily there were no jams on the North
Circular. Plus we by-passed the nineteen seventies, which is always a
bonus.”

Edwin opened his
eyes, and blinked in the strong sunlight. They were standing in a
garden, a huge, wondrous garden. A patchwork of beautifully coloured
flowerbeds stretched in all directions. Large, plump bees droned
contentedly between the blooms, whilst butterflies flitted all around
in dabs of shimmering colour.

“The Maddergrub
Garden is the envy of the magical world.” Maddy beamed with pride.
“All of these plants have magical uses, for potions, spells and
such like.”

“Wow.” Edwin was
duly impressed. “So there could be a cure for Hypnoflax poisoning
right here?”

“Like I said, my
family are experts with magic herbs. Now let’s go find them.”

Maddy set off down a
gravel pathway. Edwin went to follow, but stopped when he heard a
strange noise.

It seemed to come
from all round him, yet echoed in his mind as though somehow part of
him: a rhythmic, deep rasping noise that reminded him of snoring.

“It’s probably
just a side effect of magic time travel,” said Maddy. “Nothing to
worry about. Now come along, there’s plenty more to show you.”

Maddy dragged Edwin
along the pathway and through an arched opening in a thick box hedge.

“And this,” she
announced with a wave of her right hand, “is our home.”

Edwin gaped, the
muscles that held his jaw in place seeming to turn to jelly.

He’d seen
Maddergrub Manor before. It had been old and derelict then, a
crumbling empty shell. Now Edwin couldn’t believe he was looking at
the same building.

“So what d’you
think?”

Edwin couldn’t
answer Maddy’s question. All he could do was stare, absorbing the
grandeur of the gleaming white walls, the slender high towers topped
with shiny golden spires, the beautiful windows made of shimmering,
multi-coloured glass…

And the flying
gargoyles, of course.

“Look out!”
Edwin ducked when he saw a hideous, winged statue swooping down from
the roof of Maddergrub Manor.

“It’s alright,”
chuckled Maddy, holding out a hand to the gargoyle as it landed
beside her. “These ones are quite tame. We’ve raised Girty and
Gorty since they were pebbles.”